News of the bodies floating in Blumedale's reeking drainage canal reached both the Goldings and the Haywoods within hours.

"The first few were just appetizers. If they die, so be it—cannon fodder at best," Elon said coldly. "Andrew, you might have some skills, but you haven't seen my real trump card yet."

Elon's pudgy face darkened with a sinister grin. He had not expected those initial mercs to succeed anyway—they were nothing but disposable thugs, and their deaths did not faze him one bit.